


Control Of Life

by Anonymous



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-30
Updated: 2002-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 14:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Domestic violence is about control and she who doesn't have control usually comes out second best.





	1. Control Of Life

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Control Of Life**

**by:** Loz 

**Disclaimer:** As always I make no claim to the recognizable characters in this story who feature weekly on the West Wing. I get the gargling, dribbling, vomiting baby...but she is cute! :0) 

**Category:** Drama, Leo/Margaret

**Spoilers:** Dead Irish Writers

**Rating:** TEEN - Some material may be inappropriate for children under thirteen. (V) Intense scenes of domestic violence and (S) language.

**Author's Note:** I reluctantly took this on with some gentle encouragement and desperation due to having no other ideas. I don't really like the topic much, it's a bit to close to home with a good friend of mines mother going through the same thing. I confess to not doing as much research on this one, however what I did notice was that most of my searches returned male instigated domestic violence and a scattering of gay relationships. I'm sure there are cases of female instigated violence, I just couldn't picture Margaret going there unless she was really pushed as you'll find out. Behind the title: Yes I finally got around to seeing what all the fuss was/is about, Russell Crowe, Meg Ryan - Proof of life, thus Control of life. I liked the movie, 'nuf said. Rating dilemma: Immediately I want to rush out and slap an ADULT on this one (Some ratings classifier I'd make) so I wandered into a web page on Enough with Jennifer Lopez, knowing it was based on a similar thing to find it was rated TEEN. I've seen the previews and figured my disjointed descriptions couldn't be any worse than Jennifer Lopez getting hit by mild mannered Rick Sammler (Billy Campbell - O &A) and then coming after him sporting all sorts of Eastern defense kicks. You may disagree with my rating, but there has to be children out there, younger than thirteen who are exposed to this sort of violence as opposed to the James Bond fantasy style, everyday without the protection of a guideline rating. 

"Every now and then beautiful angels appear cleverly disguised as ordinary human beings." - Adele Basheer 

Margaret doesn't hear the almighty crack as the rolling pin connects with her upper arm, the pain crippling and blinding her to the spinning world around her. 

"I said I didn't want fish tonight." NASA's head of analysis of the first phase of the aerospace program roars. 

"I'm sorry." Margaret trembles, holding back her tears. Her words are lost as the rolling pin cracks again this time across her shin where she'd crumbled from the pain in her arm. 

"God dammit." Andrew Prior yells, upturning the table and the two salmon meals Margaret had prepared in the half hour before he had arrived home, the vegetables scatter over the floor, the good china she'd put out to impress, crashing into dozens of pieces. They'd been an eighteenth present from her mother and until now had been in tact, it was enough to break Margaret. 

"Don't you cry." He continues with distain, bringing the rolling pin down onto her hip this time. 

"I'm sorry." Margaret begs, her eyes never leaving the wooden rolling pin, her daughter's cries saving her from another beating. 

"Jesus." Andrew swears dropping the kitchen item and moving for the stairs. 

"Don't I'll go." Margaret pleads wobbling to a standing position after him. Upstairs she can hear Andrew yelling for her six month old daughter to shut up. 

Around the door she watches her baby daughter being shaken in an attempt to stop her crying. 

"Andrew don't!" Margaret cries, reaching for her daughter who is passed over to her without hesitation. 

"I'm going out, you'd better be here when I'm back." He says gruffly. Margaret stands, soothing her daughter as she listens to him stomp down the stairs and slam the front door. 

In the bathroom she surveys herself in the mirror, Andrew's smart he only ever hits her in places that can be covered by long sleeves and pants, the only distress ever on her face is tearstains and red blotches. 

Clutching her daughter for dear life she uncovers her diary, hidden in the depths of the dirty laundry basket. Nursing her upset daughter on her knee she records the events of the night against the days date along with all the other insults and demeaning comments, the pushes, shoves, face-to-face tirades over the past months. The times he'd smashed things in anger and then made her clean them up. The intimidating words which had escalated to physical punishment, the beatings, kicks, slaps, punches and objects that had been thrown at her. 

Like all the other nights she takes a sleeping pill before going to bed, so she won't be awake when he comes home less he thinks she's checking up on him. Like so many other nights she slept in Alyson's room. 

"Margaret, when's he asking you to marry him." Ginger exclaims pulling back from the roses that had been delivered to her desk. 

Quickly Margaret grabs the card and stuffs it in her pocket, she knows what they're for... she didn't want anyone else to. 

They know the funny, warm and caring Andrew who had come to the White House to update Leo on the latest projects at NASA. He'd stopped by three times and charmed her with his jokes, his questions about her job and his conversations about her daughter. The other assistants knew about the romantic Andrew who took her out on dates, who wasn't phased by the fact Margaret was heavily pregnant and abandoned by her babies father. They were amazed by his generosity at offering to have Margaret move in when she was struggling on her own. 

Slowly he had broken away her hesitancy after having been burnt once, and slowly she had let him into her life. 

Margaret remembers the times when he was really nice and he'd take her to the movies and then the way it disintegrated. She'd only have to say something he didn't like or get stuck in a traffic jam and he'd go off. Margaret believed him when he told her work was stressful with a new top-secret project. 

Slowly however he cut her off, demanding she come straight home after work, calling numerous times during the day to check on her, to the point where Margaret was afraid to venture down to the mess for lunch in case he called while she was away from her desk. 

He scrutinized the phone bill each month making sure she hadn't called her sister or any of her friends. 

She's lost count of the number of times she turned down Ginger, Donna and Bonnie for a girls night out and they'd coo about her spending a romantic night with Andrew and Margaret knew the only thing that would happen to her would be the battering of her body because she was home ten minutes later than he required. 

He controlled her life. 

It was no secret Andrew had turned her life around, Margaret had been struggling in a cold, drafty and run down apartment which was not at all suitable to bring up a child in. When Andrew offered his three bedroom, centrally heated apartment, it seemed to good. 

It turned out to be just that. 

Alyson however was thriving, Andrew provided things for her Margaret would never be able to afford alone, clothes, toys and the most modern of nursery furniture, all of which he held that over her. 

So Margaret kept trying for her daughter's sake. Kept trying not to trigger his violent rages, kept trying to make him happy and kept trying to ignore the next purple bruise which had appeared overnight. 

But most of all she was embarrassed to ask for help. Embarrassed because she ran the office of the Chief of Staff and couldn't fathom being thought of as a victim of any sort or being unable to control some aspect of her life. 

So instead Margaret smiles hopefully to Ginger telling her soon and offers the 'Sorry' flowers to Ginger's desk until lunchtime...as far as Margaret's concerned that's where they can stay. 

"Margaret!" Leo bellows and it takes her a moment, as it so often does these days, to compose herself and remind herself it's not Andrew on the prowl with a blunt weapon in his hand because the dishes aren't done, or the laundry, or he can't find his car keys. 

"It's the First Lady's birthday party next week, do you have a dress?" Leo asks once their business is done and Margaret outwardly flinches realizing she'll have to dress conservatively if there're still marks on her arms. 

"Margaret." He asks concerned, raising a hand gently to rest on her upper arm where her baseball sized bruise reacts to the slight pressure, causing Margaret to once again flinch. 

"You Ok?" He asks rubbing her arms soothingly and triggering again the flinch at the pain. 

"Margaret?" He asks again, question in his tone as he raises the mid sleeve of her blouse to reveal the black bruise. 

"What happened?" He asks horrified once he's revealed the extent of the damage. 

"I fell, in the kitchen." Margaret attempts lamely hoping it will be enough for Leo. 

"He hits you?" Leo asks dropping her blouse so it hides the hideous black welt again. 

"I have a suitable dress." Margaret says ignoring the accusation and quickly exiting the office. 

"You don't have to put up with him." Leo stands in the doorway between their two offices later that afternoon. 

Margaret ignores him continuing to type away. It's not the first time in day to day work that Leo has brushed the same spot Andrew has abused the night before, this time the battle wounds are just worse. 

"You have friends who can help you." Leo inches closer to the desk and Margaret becomes nervous at his approach. 

"I can't leave him." Margaret whispers, tears welling in her eyes, her hands forgotten to continue to type. 

"Why not?" Leo asks soothingly, sitting on the desk next to her. 

"He provides for us." Margaret tries to hide her sob. 

"So you show your gratitude by letting him use you as a personal punching bag?" Leo says evenly. 

"You don't understand." Margaret says, anger seeping in. 

"I understand he hits you and that's not acceptable." Leo places a soft hand on her shoulder causing Margaret to turn and look at him for the first time. 

"He provides things for Alyson that I never could." The anger in her voice grows. 

"Like what?" Leo ignores her keeping a level tone. 

"A home, clothes, toys, food." Unchecked her anger grows at Leo's inability to accept her point. 

"You could provide all these things." Leo points out. 

"Not as well." Margaret argues. 

"She doesn't need the biggest and the best Margaret, she just needs you to love her and care for her." Leo tells her, the frustration growing in him. 

"He loves me, he just gets angry sometimes and he always apologizes." Margaret compensates. 

"There's no excuse." Leo's voice dropping to an almost whisper. 

"You don't understand." This time Margaret yells, she never has to Leo before and as soon as she realizes what she's done she cowers as if Leo's next move will be to slap her across the face. 

"I'm so sorry." She says begging, sliding out of her chair and as far from Leo as she can, like Andrew was holding the rolling pin ready to strike. 

"It's Ok." Leo offers out a hand, sliding off the table and moving hesitantly towards her looking for any greater signs of distress. 

Trembling in the corner, Margaret lets him approach and gently close his arms in around her. The adrenalin in her body won't let her relax into his embrace; instead she remains ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. 

"If you ever decide you want to get out, you know where I am." Leo offers squeezing her a little tighter in his embrace. 

Over his shoulder Margaret nods, but says nothing. 

"You should go home, surprise him." Leo smiles sadly up at her. 

"Thank you." Margaret's head bobs, grateful for the offer. 

"Think about what example your making for your daughter." Leo says softly as Margaret gathers her things before returning to his office. 

"I'm home." Margaret calls cheerfully; knowing he's here from the car parked downstairs, the apartment is eerily quiet, like the calm before a storm. 

The barreling form of Andrew, coming bowling out of the laundry makes Margaret step back a couple of paces, in one hand he waves his tuxedo shirt, the other her diary. 

"Why haven't you washed this you lazy bitch?" He yells following Margaret as she backs around the couch. 

"And what the fuck is this?" he screams holding up her diary he found on the bottom of the laundry pile. 

"It's nothing." Margaret trembles continuing to back her way around the living room furniture avoiding the growing rage of her live in lover. 

"Like hell it is, it's a book of lies, lies about me." He roars and lunges for her, grabbing at her wrist and yanking her into the kitchen. 

"Please let go of me." Margaret pleads feeling his grip tighten further around her wrist as he searches the kitchen cupboards for matches. 

Her diary drops into the sink and he thrusts the box of matches at her. "Light one." He commands. 

"Please don't make me." Margaret pleads on the verge of crying. A crippling punch to her middle causes Margaret to double over. 

"Light one or I'll light you." He roars watching Margaret strike the match three times before successfully lighting it. 

He watches satisfied as the record of his abuse goes up in flames in the kitchen sink, Margaret inspects the hand prints around her wrist where he gripped her so tightly. The first blow with the rolling pin comes on her left arm, followed in quick succession to the other arm. Almost blinded by tears she watches the rolling pin fall to the floor and hopes her punishment is complete. 

"Don't you ever cross me again, you need me." He snarls as Margaret watches the chopping board rise to head height. It cracks across her face with one blow and it's the last thing Margaret can recall. 

Alyson is crying when Margaret comes around again, slumped on her side on the cold tiled floor in the kitchen, her head resting in a pool of her own brilliant blood. 

She lets out a guttural cry when she sees the blood covering her hands and clothes and the pain that radiates through the left side of her face and her hair which is drenched in her own blood, sticking together in clumps. 

Now she sobs without fear, remembering Andrew had a formal function to go to tonight and that's why he was angry about the shirt. Touching her face just barely, her fingers become tainted with her own red blood. She stumbles up the stairs, unable to open her left eye from the blow, crying as she hears her own daughter's cries grow stronger. 

Leo's words bounce around in her throbbing head, 'If you ever decide you want to get out, you know where I am.' and 'Think about what example your making for your daughter,' as she searches for a heavy winter scarf, her cries becoming more desperate as she fails to find the black woolen garment and Alyson cries harder. 

Finding it on the bottom of the sixth drawer she goes through, a quick glimpse in the mirror at her appearance leaves Margaret horrified at her swollen, bloodstained cheek and eye. Hastily she weaves the scarf around her face, covering her blood that is trailing down her neck and staining her blouse. 

She presses Alyson as close to her chest as she can, grabbing only a blanket to keep the chill off her baby daughter. Downstairs she grabs for her purse and keys, there's nothing more about her life she can't live without...tonight she reached breaking point. 

When Alyson is safe in her car seat, Margaret pulls away from the apartment, not looking back. 

In the foyer, Margaret pulls the scarf closer into the side of her face as her black and red face draws attention from the wealthier middle class clientele. Her face is throbbing as her body works over time to pump blood to her battered facial tissue. 

As she nears the top floor her quiet sobbing starts again as she realizes room ten eighteen is a safe haven. It takes only a matter of moments for the door to her safe haven to be opened. 

"What did he do to you?" Leo asks, Margaret can't recall ever seeing such a look of horror on his face before. She can only cling tighter to her daughter, unable to answer. 

"You need to be checked out at GW." Leo says, disappearing momentarily and coming back with a coat for both of them. Gently he takes Alyson from her arms and ushers her down the fire escape stairs. 

Ignoring the sympathetic stares that she gets from the other emergency patients waiting in the cold plastic chairs, Margaret watches Leo cradle Alyson close to him and talk to one of the nurses on duty. 

The middle-aged nurse looks over at Margaret as she picks up the phone, having only a brief conversation with the person on the other end. By this time Leo is leading her into a private examination room. 

"What happened?" Leo asks as he clears the dried blood from Margaret's face with the mildly antiseptic water the nurse bought in. Margaret shifts uncomfortably in the aftermath of the rape kit that was done on her, watching over her daughter who sleeps contentedly in the hospital crib, unaffected it seems by everything. 

"When I came home..." Margaret starts as Leo presses a gentle hand to the right side of the face to steady her; he lets the warm cloth wipe away her blood. "I hadn't washed his shirt for tonight." 

"That's it?" Leo asks as Margaret flinches when the antiseptic reaches raw flesh. 

"He found the diary I was keeping of all the things he had done to me, he made me burn it and then he hit me." A lone tear trickles down her cheek. "I woke and he was gone and then I came to you." 

Outside the door, two uniformed police officers step in front of the glass panel and Leo moves quickly to allay Margaret's mixture of fear and hesitation. 

"It's Ok, we can get you a no contact restraining order by tomorrow." Leo says soothingly, his right hand continuing to caress the undamaged side of her face. 

"I can't." Margaret's voice trembles, watching the two officers converse outside her earshot. 

"Margaret you have to, otherwise he's going to do it to the next woman and the next and nobody will ever know because he's the model citizen with a solid job and links to respectable clubs and societies, the generous nature and he'll keep getting away with it only in the future it might accelerate...till someone ends up dead." 

"I don't think I can." Margaret whispers hoarsely. 

"Margaret you took the first step, you came to me, that tells me you want out of this." Leo lays out, strengthening the insistence in his voice, his hand reaches for hers squeezing it encouragingly. 

Ok barely comes out of her mouth, but it's enough for Leo who opens the door to the two officers and the process of getting control back over her life begins. 

"You stay with me tonight." Leo says as the cab winds through the light traffic on the way back to the hotel. 

At the front desk Leo asks for a baby crib to be sent up to the room, before ushering Margaret into the silent lift ride to his floor. 

Feeling helpless she stands inside the door watching Leo as he makes accommodations for his guests. Margaret can hear the water running in the bath as Alyson starts to get fussy for some food. 

"Have you eaten?" Leo asks pressing a palm to his forehead looking slightly stressed. Margaret reaches out her free hand placing it gently on Leo's shoulder. 

"Thank you." She barely whispers as she watches Leo relax little. 

"I ran you a bath." Leo says letting his hands wave in the direction of the bathroom. "I don't know if you want me to order you something..." His voice fades. 

"I'd appreciate that." Margaret nods, she follows him with her eyes into the kitchen where he picks up the phone with his back to her, ordering from room service. 

Sighing at the backward step she was about to take, having moved Alyson gradually onto soft solids last month, Margaret gently opens her crinkled blouse and offers her left breast that Alyson gratefully latches onto. 

"I didn't know you still..." Leo starts, stopping when Margaret looks up to find him in the room, hastily pulling her blouse over where her daughter sucks contentedly away. 

"I..." 

"It's Ok." Leo assures her. 

"I..." 

"I mean if it's alright with you." 

"No it's Ok with me." Margaret says loosening her grip on the protective covering of her blouse. 

"I thought she was on solids." 

"She was." Margaret says looking down at her daughter again. "It's just with everything tonight...I didn't exactly move out, I just left. I haven't fed her this way for a while, I hope I haven't dried up" 

"I could have got you something." Leo offers. 

"It's Ok." Margaret smiles, watching him step closer. 

"Can I?" He asks crouching in front of them and Margaret isn't sure what he's asking, she just knows it'll be all right. 

With Margaret's affirmative nod he curls the little girls fingers over one of his own, and counts ten tiny toes before running his fingers along the barely there red hair which covers the crown of Alyson's head. 

"It's the most beautiful thing in the world." He says softy watching Alyson suck away hungrily before meeting his eyes with Margaret's tear filled eyes. 

"You Ok?" He asks before being interrupted by the door and the crib he requested is sent up. For the first time in as long as she can remember, Margaret laughs, watching Leo fumble for a tip while juggling the crib and then trying to assemble it, despite it being a fold out. 

"I can burp her." Leo holds both hands out for Alyson as Margaret walks around the room gently patting her back. "You'll need to run some more hot water in the bath though." 

"She'll sleep after that." Margaret tells him as she carefully hands over her daughter. 


	2. Control Of Life 2

**Control Of Life**

**by:** Loz 

**Disclaimer:** As always I make no claim to the recognizable characters in this story who feature weekly on the West Wing. I get the gargling, dribbling, vomiting baby...but she is cute! :0) 

**Category:** Drama, Leo/Margaret

**Spoilers:** Dead Irish Writers

**Rating:** TEEN - Some material may be inappropriate for children under thirteen. (V) Intense scenes of domestic violence and (S) language.

**Author's Note:** I reluctantly took this on with some gentle encouragement and desperation due to having no other ideas. I don't really like the topic much, it's a bit to close to home with a good friend of mines mother going through the same thing. I confess to not doing as much research on this one, however what I did notice was that most of my searches returned male instigated domestic violence and a scattering of gay relationships. I'm sure there are cases of female instigated violence, I just couldn't picture Margaret going there unless she was really pushed as you'll find out. Behind the title: Yes I finally got around to seeing what all the fuss was/is about, Russell Crowe, Meg Ryan - Proof of life, thus Control of life. I liked the movie, 'nuf said. Rating dilemma: Immediately I want to rush out and slap an ADULT on this one (Some ratings classifier I'd make) so I wandered into a web page on Enough with Jennifer Lopez, knowing it was based on a similar thing to find it was rated TEEN. I've seen the previews and figured my disjointed descriptions couldn't be any worse than Jennifer Lopez getting hit by mild mannered Rick Sammler (Billy Campbell - O &A) and then coming after him sporting all sorts of Eastern defense kicks. You may disagree with my rating, but there has to be children out there, younger than thirteen who are exposed to this sort of violence as opposed to the James Bond fantasy style, everyday without the protection of a guideline rating. 

* * *

While Margaret tries to soak away the night's events, Leo manages to get the crib wheeled into the bedroom where he intends Margaret to sleep. He doesn't however avoid the vomited milk that dribbles down the back of his shirt and as Margaret says, Alyson doesn't fuss when he places her carefully in the crib. 

Through the thin bathroom walls Margaret smiles as she hears him singing a lullaby from her childhood and the gentle squeak of the crib as he rocks it back and forth. She sheds a tiny tear, remembering Andrew shaking her violently in an effort to stop her crying not a week before. 

She changes into the clean pair of basic warm clothes that Leo left out for her, tiptoeing past her sleeping daughter and out to find Leo. 

Their meals are being wheeled in on a silver cart, the heavy white plates covered by silver trays to keep the food warm. Leo sets the meals opposite one another at the tiny dining table; he pulls back the chair for Margaret to sit in making her laugh at the old fashioned chivalry. 

Halfway through the meal Margaret starts to relax for the first time in ages and then there's a knock at the door. 

"Are you expecting anyone?" Margaret whispers as the door is knocked on again. 

Leo shakes his head, going back to his meal and encouraging Margaret to do the same in the hope whomever it is will go away. 

The knocking continues getting louder and more insistent till the person on the other side of the door identifies themselves as they call out 'Margaret'. 

The fork in her hand clatters onto the table as a cry of horror escapes her lips. She bolts from the chair panicking, turning in each direction around the living area, looking for a route of escape. 

Andrew is now thundering at the door, screaming her name in the same sentence as other obscenities that are loud enough to be heard by other guests up and down the floor. 

"I can't go back to him, he'll kill me." Margaret sobs under Andrews yelling, becoming increasingly terrified with the situation. 

"Put this on." Leo holds out his coat, helping her into it. 

"Wrap Alyson in this and go stand on the terrace." Leo instructs, holding out the second coat he'd worn to the hospital earlier that night. 

"What are you going to do?" Margaret asks as the door bends on its hinges with Andrew throwing his body weight against it. 

"Go!" Leo says forcefully picking up the phone and dialing the front desk. 

* * *

"He's gone." Leo crouches down where Margaret is sitting with Alyson pressed against her out of sight in a corner of the terrace. Her hands are trembling, tears trickling down her face, Alyson still asleep in her arms. 

"Hotel security took him and then the police did." Leo adds reassuringly. 

"He'll be back." Margaret whispers. 

"Not tonight...and tomorrow your restraining order will have gone through." Leo reminds her, offering out a hand to help her up off the cold outdoor tiles. 

* * *

"She slept right through it." Leo marvels watching Alyson twitch slowly, her little hands scratching at her face. 

"She won't remember, too young thankfully." Margaret sighs. 

"That's the best bit." Leo nods towards the bed, guiding Margaret under the thin sheets and blankets. 

"How'd he find you?" Leo asks gently stroking her hair from her face. 

"You're my emergency contact, he probably came home, found I was gone and went through my stuff and he probably woke up half my friends and family looking for me." Margaret suggests, wiping a sole tear from her bottom eyelid. She notices Leo's eyes never move from hers as his thumb strokes across her temple. 

"I'm on the couch." He says gently leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before switching off the light and flooding the room in darkness. 

Margaret's sleep is haunted by the most disgusting of dreams that she cannot escape, one after another like a never ending double feature. Sweat beads on her head and soaks through the pillow as she tosses and turns through her restless slumber while her body temperature drops as she flings the sheets and blankets in every direction. 

The escape comes with a terrified cry that has her sitting straight up in bed and has Leo come flying into the room. 

"It was a dream." He tries to comfort as her as the distress disorients Margaret and she tries to fight off Leo. 

There's nothing that can be said that Leo doesn't already know, so she just lets herself cry, until she's cried herself to sleep, held in the protective arms of Leo McGarry, the man she's known for the longest, second only to her father. 

He's still there, holding her in the morning. 

* * *

"What do you need?" Leo asks looking around the decorative yet functional guest room in the residence of the White House. 

"Food, clothes, toys, diapers... the whole disaster." Margaret sighs looking around at the temporary crib set up for Alyson and the grand furniture that fills the room. 

"I'll get someone to get it for you now." Leo promises. "You can stay here tonight, Andrew won't be able to get past..." 

"The Secret Service." Margaret interrupts. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of Jed Bartlet." Leo flashes a broad grin. 

"I should come down..." 

"Not today, spend today with Alyson." Leo stops her short. "I'll get in someone else, you need to let your face heal as well, without half the west wing wondering if I really did thump you finally or not." The broad grin returns as he leaves for work and for the first time in a long time, Margaret smiles as well. 

* * *

A knock on the door late morning, sets panic in for Margaret and it takes two knocks before she calls out hesitantly asking who it is. 

When she opens the door to the Secret Service Agents who identified themselves, she's met with ten large brown boxes and five agents. 

"What are these?" Margaret asks wondering who Leo sent shopping and where. 

"These are yours ma'am." The taller agent says and Margaret steps aside letting them in. 

"This is my stuff." She cries out happily when she opens the boxes of her clothes, cosmetics, kitchen items and all of Alyson's things. 

"Yes ma'am." Another agent answers. 

"You broke into his apartment and packed up all my belongings." Margaret asks her face lighting up at the prospect. For a moment the agents look between themselves before answering of course not, with a wink of their eye. 

None of them have the heart to tell the frail beaten woman that all her worldly possessions and those of her child we're sitting downstairs on the curb, waiting to be collected by a charity. They couldn't even tell her which apartment Andrew Prior lived in. 

* * *

When Leo finally escapes the west wing later that night he finds Alyson asleep, securely tucked under her own baby blanket and Margaret dozing on the bed, a long forgotten copy of Vogue magazine slumped over her stomach. 

Carefully he presses the ice pack he bought up for her against the bruised side of her face, noting the swelling has gone down a little but she's still unable to open her eye and it will take weeks longer for the broken bones in her cheek to mend. 

Her good eye flutters open, a smile spreading across her face and her left hand joining his, pressing the pack barely to the side of her face. 

"Did you have a good day today?" He smiles down at her. 

"The Secret Service moved me out today." She tells him grinning stupidly. 

"You don't ever have to go back." Leo confirms, brushing the back of his hand affectionately on the other side of her face. "You got a restraining order against him, he can't have contact with you or Alyson in anyway." 

"Really." Margaret confirms, tears brimming and spilling over, unable to believe she's finally free of Andrew. "You did it." She says gratefully to Leo. 

"No you did it." He says reaching for her hand and squeezing it encouragingly. 

"Thank you." Margaret says but no sound comes out, in effect the words are just mouthed. 

"No thanks necessary, you decided you wanted out and you came to me...you did all the hard work." Leo reminds her. "I'm heading home now, President's expecting you and Alyson for breakfast." 

"Ok." Margaret nods letting her eyes wander to her sleeping daughter. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." Leo says standing up and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before disappearing once again behind the closed door. 

* * *

The foyer is empty except for skeletal over night staff as Leo presses the button commanding the lift to come and pick him up and take him to his floor. Where as last night he was uneasy, tonight he feels secure in the fact Margaret is tucked safely within the confines of the White House. 

He loosens the knot of his tie as he wonders if there's anything left in the kitchen he could possibly bribe to bring up to him. Over the few years he's been here, they've become fairly understanding of his job and more importantly its hours. 

The young voice that Leo doesn't recognize on the other end of the phone promises to have something sent up shortly and in the mean time Leo roams around the room half watching and listening to the television and staring out over the terrace. 

When the knock comes at the door followed by the identification of your meal sir, Leo wanders to the door, digging through his pockets for a suitable tip. 

He looses control of the door as soon as the lock slips open, the force that pushes the door open from the outside causes Leo to stumble on his footing backwards. 

The final blow comes with one foul punch to the side of his face that leaves him unconscious, bleeding onto the cream carpeted floor. The assailant leaves, unaided unlike the previous night and this time a lot more satisfied. 

The pain is the first thing Leo feels when he comes to again, groaning with the throbbing the first thing he sees is the blood that the carpet has soaked then moments later in the bathroom mirror he sees the full extent of the damage. 

He mumbles to himself about resembling Margaret and Andrew Prior hitting in the same way. Already his cheek is puffed and pink, blood is running in streams down his face from in and around the vicinity of his eye. 

The same young voice answers when Leo rings the front desk...he asks them to call the police. 

* * *

Three hours, one police report and one X-Ray negative for broken bones later, Leo sits in a cab as it crosses through the quiet city streets towards the White House. 

He walks through the silent corridors of the west wing with a clean suit in hand which he leaves in his office for a few hours time. 

In the residence the President is waiting, still half asleep, wrapped in a robe. The shock wakes him up, Leo having to work hard to convince him not to wake Abbey to look at his face, having earlier phoned him to explain the situation. Instead he indicates his intention to enter Margaret's room and curl up next to her for the couple of hours till morning. 

Alyson smiles, kicking, gargling and dribbling at Leo, wide awake as he leans over the crib to look at her. 

"Go to sleep kiddo, you won't be getting any when you're older and in my job." He whispers, dropping his jacket over a nearby chair. The little girls legs and arms thrash happily, smiling like she wants to be picked up. 

"You're very lucky you know..." He whispers relenting and picking her up. "You're mother is a very special lady." He says in an animated voice, bouncing her in his arms as he walks about the room. 

"And you and I, we both care for her very much." Leo adds wiping some of the dribble from Alyson's chin then wrapping her fingers around one of his as they watch Margaret sleep. 

When he puts her down to sleep again, Leo climbs on top of the generous bed next to Margaret with no option but to sleep on his right side like her and thus facing away from her. 

Best not to give her the fright of her life first things in the morning he muses, closing his eyes and encouraging sleep to join him. 

* * *

A gentle prodding in the back wakes Leo a couple of hours later and before the pain from his face registers with his brain again or he remembers what he will look like to Margaret, Leo turns over to say good morning. 

Her first reaction is to draw in a horrified breath and then squeak out an equally as distressed cry. 

"He hit you when?" Margaret asks, her hand circling his red and puffy face as if it had the power to heal. 

"He came to my room last night, I thought it was my food." Margaret finds no comfort in Leo's explanation. 

She only knows to start to cry again until Leo urges her to stop. "It just means we're doing the right thing." 

At the foot of the bed Alyson gurgles and shrieks in agreeance. 

* * *

"If this wasn't so terrible, it'd be funny." The President says dryly, referring to the matching swollen faces of Leo and Margaret as the three guests arrive for breakfast. 

"It won't happen again." Leo sighs, sitting opposite the President. 

"Thank you for that crystal ball prediction." The First Lady contributes. 

"Margaret has a no contact restraining order out against him." Leo offers. 

"Good for Margaret, not for you." Jed Bartlet says offering to fill Margaret's cup with coffee as she balances Alyson on her knee attempting to open the jar of apple. 

"He's not coming back, he's had his one swing, he's got too much to loose by taking it further." Leo mumbles, pouring some coffee for himself. 

"So you're an expert in domestic violence now?" 

"Abbey." Jed says in a warning tone. 

"I'm just saying." Leo sighs. "He's got an image and restraining orders and charges of domestic violence or assault don't fit into that image." 

"Can you...?" Margaret's wobbly hand holds out the jar of applesauce that she hasn't succeeded in opening. 

Leo pops it open easily and lifts Alyson from her lap onto his. 

"You should eat." He says softly, holding her gaze with his. 

"So should you." The First Lady adds. 

"Abbey." The President says adopting the don't-go-there tone again. 

"What Jed?" A knife clatters to the table signaling the beginning of the argument. 

No one notices as Leo happily goes about feeding Alyson, he sneaks the spoon up on her, makes airplane and train noises as it approaches her mouth and turns the spoon upside down momentarily without loosing any of the apple while commentating in a goofy voice, all to the little girls delight. 

When the background argument ceases suddenly Leo looks up to find them all starting at him. 

"What?" He asks sending another spoonful into Alyson's mouth. 

"We don't see this side of you very often." The First Lady stifles a giggle. 

"Mallory was a baby once." Leo defends, "I wasn't totally inept as a father." 

"What's the plan for today?" The President asks swallowing another mouthful of coffee. 

"Margaret starts house hunting." Leo jumps in before Margaret has a chance. "Over the internet." 

"You're going downstairs like that?" Abbey asks. 

"I'm an old man, I fell on the stairs." Leo shrugs, wiping up some apple that has dribbled down Alyson's chin. 

"Tell them the truth." Margaret says in barely above a whisper, each person sitting at the table turning to look at her. 

"You sure." Leo stops the spoon mid-air. 

"They'll figure it out eventually." She shrugs. 

* * *

The chill in the air, unusual for this time of year is nothing compared to the chill Margaret feels as Leo accompanies her to look at an apartment she found earlier that day. 

The over bearing feeling that she's being followed has Margaret turning to look over her shoulder as they get out of the car and head inside the building. 

"You Ok?" Leo asks as they get in the lift to the third floor. 

"Yeah, I just..." She doesn't finish her sentence as the doors open on the third floor and a small blonde woman is waiting to show them around. It's obvious she wants to ask about the twin bruised faces the two have. 

"You like it?" Leo asks when Margaret re-emerges from one of the two bedrooms in the modest apartment, it's clean and well kept and within her price range. 

"I love it." She smiles happily at Alyson. 

"Are you new to the district?" The blonde woman asks. 

"No, I've been here for five years." Margaret smiles happily glancing down to the street through the large front windows. 

"Where are you staying now?" 

Margaret's head snaps back around to Leo grinning stupidly at him. "The White House, I'll take it." She tells the confused woman. 

* * *

"Just a minute." Margaret calls as she applies the last of the cover makeup over the side of her face. On the other side of the door the President stands adjusting his tie into position. 

"Good morning Sir." Margaret stumbles feeling uncomfortable with a towel tossed over her shoulder in case breakfast is returned from Alyson. 

"Hey Margaret." He says holding out his hands for her daughter, swinging her gently in the air making Margaret cringe. 

"Not a good idea Sir." She offers, putting the towel over his left shoulder. 

"Nonsense." The President protests. "How are you this morning?" 

"We're good." Margaret says and then remembers. "I wanted to thank you for your hospitality." 

"You're leaving us?" He asks wide-eyed, tickling Alyson. 

"I found a place last night, I'm moving in on Monday." 

"Well that's a shame, you're going back to work today?" He confirms. "Abbey wondered if you might leave Alyson with her today in the East Wing." 

"I guess." Margaret shrugs, the alternative was for Alyson to spend the day in her office. 

"Is this all I need, this little bundle of joy." The President jokes as Margaret goes and collects 'the bag' from inside the room. 

"Just the essentials." The President jokes as he pretends to bend under the weight of the bag. "We'll see you tonight." Jed Bartlet says waving Alyson's hand goodbye for her. 

* * *

"Welcome back." Leo smiles looking up from his work and sliding his glasses of his face. 

"Thanks." Margaret smiles taking a deep breath. 

"I explained to everyone and told people not to ask, so they won't bother you." Leo reaches out and grips her hand across the table. 

"I bought you something." He remembers, dropping her hand like a hot potato. Out of the cupboard he brings a high-necked, shoulders bare, black and gray sparkling dress. 

"It's beautiful." Margaret breaths running the material between her fingers. 

"It's for the First Lady's birthday." Leo smiles. 

"Thank you, I owe you too much already." She sighs as the phone starts ringing. 

"You can pay me back by answering the phone." He jokes, watching a she picks up the receiver and then holds it out to Leo. 

"It's the front gate." She tells him frowning because they rarely have reason to call the Chief of Staff. 

Margaret listens nervously as Leo repeats no, asking if someone has an appointment, saying he doesn't care if he has credentials to get him inside and then informing the front gate that the person is to have no contact, by this time Margaret is extremely nervous. 

"Andrew?" Margaret asks hesitantly and a little fearfully. 

"He's at the front gate asking to see Alyson." Leo informs her and Margaret stifles an alarmed cry. 

"He can't..." She begins. 

"You're right he can't come in contact with either of you and he won't. He's been escorted from the front gate." Leo assures her. 

"Maybe I should just go down and stand on this side of the fence, him on the other." Margaret suggests. 

"You can't give control back to him." Leo says firmly. "Nothing he has to say is worth listening or subscribing to. You've moved on, new place, new life, you're in control." 

* * *

"Where do you want me to hang the mobile?" Leo calls from Alyson's bedroom; the phone ringing delays her answer and seizes her attention because so far she hasn't given anyone this number. 

Leo wanders from the room watching her pick up the phone and hold it away from her ear when the person on the other end hangs up. 

"Wrong number." Leo shrugs hoping Margaret won't draw the same conclusions he is...Andrew. 

"I need to go out, for food." Margaret calls absently as Leo searches for the perfect spot to hang the angels. 

"Ok, you want me to come with you." Leo calls, stopping and holding his breath for her reply. 

"No, I won't be too long." Margaret brushes him off. 

"The mobile Margaret." He reminds her. 

"In the corner, over her crib." She replies happily, picking up her wallet and keys. 

Wandering up and down the wide aisles, Margaret can't shake the sickly feeling she's being followed; walking the two blocks to the shop she turned constantly to look over her shoulder seeing no car or suspicious person. 

As she mingles with the mid-day shoppers, picking up something to make for dinner tonight, she scans the face of each shopper around her, recognizing no one and cursing Andrew for turning her into a nervous wreck. 

As she stands waiting at the checkout, flicking through a magazine, someone catches the corner of her eye, but by the time she turns the figure in jeans and a red shirt has disappeared up the fruit and vegetable aisle. She fingers her phone in her bag contemplating calling Leo to come and pick her up but his words echo around her head, you're in control and she refuses to turn into someone who cannot leave the house out of fear. 


	3. Control Of Life 3

**Control Of Life**

**by:** Loz 

**Disclaimer:** As always I make no claim to the recognizable characters in this story who feature weekly on the West Wing. I get the gargling, dribbling, vomiting baby...but she is cute! :0) 

**Category:** Drama, Leo/Margaret

**Spoilers:** Dead Irish Writers

**Rating:** TEEN - Some material may be inappropriate for children under thirteen. (V) Intense scenes of domestic violence and (S) language.

**Author's Note:** I reluctantly took this on with some gentle encouragement and desperation due to having no other ideas. I don't really like the topic much, it's a bit to close to home with a good friend of mines mother going through the same thing. I confess to not doing as much research on this one, however what I did notice was that most of my searches returned male instigated domestic violence and a scattering of gay relationships. I'm sure there are cases of female instigated violence, I just couldn't picture Margaret going there unless she was really pushed as you'll find out. Behind the title: Yes I finally got around to seeing what all the fuss was/is about, Russell Crowe, Meg Ryan - Proof of life, thus Control of life. I liked the movie, 'nuf said. Rating dilemma: Immediately I want to rush out and slap an ADULT on this one (Some ratings classifier I'd make) so I wandered into a web page on Enough with Jennifer Lopez, knowing it was based on a similar thing to find it was rated TEEN. I've seen the previews and figured my disjointed descriptions couldn't be any worse than Jennifer Lopez getting hit by mild mannered Rick Sammler (Billy Campbell - O &A) and then coming after him sporting all sorts of Eastern defense kicks. You may disagree with my rating, but there has to be children out there, younger than thirteen who are exposed to this sort of violence as opposed to the James Bond fantasy style, everyday without the protection of a guideline rating. 

* * *

When the phone rings again during dinner, Margaret answers again and this time whoever is on the other end doesn't hang up. At the end of countless hellos, Leo whistles as shrilly into the phone as he can before hanging up. 

"You want me to stay?" He asks as Margaret clears the table. 

"No I'll be fine." She says confidently, not trying to let her exterior betray her inner fear. 

"You've got good door locks." Leo adds reassuringly as he grabs his coat. "I'll see you Monday." He attaches, brushing his lips gently on her cheek. 

As soon as he's gone and Margaret has dead bolted the doors the phone rings again and it doesn't stop for the next four hours till Margaret picks it up and leaves it off the hook. 

Sitting curled at the head of her bed she listens petrified as the knocks on her door become thumps and kicks and shouts of her name. Only when he wakes up her neighbors and is threatened with the police, does her apartment fall into quiet again. 

* * *

When the sun has risen high enough to give her a false sense of security, Margaret ventures into the living area making sure to keep the sheer curtains drawn across the window to her street. 

During the night a note has been slipped under her door, as she reads the first few lines it flutters to the ground again, Margaret gasping in horror. It's an itemized diary of her actions over the past three days. 

Dashing to the window she looks down on the street, through the safety of the drapes which you can only see out of from inside. Sitting down the street she recognizes his car and despite the dark tinting she swears she can see him behind wheel. 

The phone is lifted off the hook for the first time in six hours and it shocks her as it rings instantly, cutting him off she immediately dials directly into Leo's room. 

"He's stalking me." She cries, her voice trembling and barely audible. 

"I'll be there soon, don't open your door to anyone, I'll come up the fire stairs at the back of the building." Leo instructs. 

* * *

Trembling hands around a lukewarm cup of coffee, Margaret waits as Leo reads through the note, holding it barely by the edge to preserve any fingerprints. 

"It's contact right." Margaret confirms, still watching him down on the street through the window. 

"We can't really prove it." Leo says regretfully, coming to stand next to her. 

"He was here, banging on my door last night, after you left the phone rang non stop." Margaret informs him. 

"What happened, why didn't you call me" Leo asks shocked. 

"I figured he'd get sick of it, it took my neighbors and a threat of the police to do it though." 

"Keep this up and you won't be too popular with your neighbors." Leo deadpans. 

"Least of my concerns." Margaret admits. 

"Which one is he?" 

"Navy blue car." Margaret indicates. 

"Vanity plates, not to smart." Leo nods, his gaze wandering to the drivers seat. "But he's parked far enough away not to break his restraining order." 

"He broke it last night." Margaret mumbles, her ears picking up on Alyson as she starts to cry in the next room. 

"You could go back to the White House, or I could convince The President to give you a Secret Service detail." Leo calls as Margaret rescues Alyson from her bouncer. 

"It's all just temporary, I can't live the rest of my life at the White House, I don't want to have to go out surrounded by six men in suits and most of all I don't want to be afraid to go outside and live the life I want to live." Margaret says assertidly, pulling some pureed vegetables out of the cupboard for Alyson to eat. 

"Sounds like the Margaret I know and love." Leo smiles back at her. 

* * *

On Monday it's more than hesitancy as Margaret opens the door to go to work. Despite checking six or eight times for the navy car parked in the street without success, as soon as she steps one foot outside her doorway her pulse races in time with her heightened anxiety and she gets no further than the stairs before rushing back inside her apartment, checking all the locks and sliding the chain along last. Tears brimming in her eyes and one hand on the phone to call Leo to rescue her, she starts talking out loud to Alyson in the room, psyching herself to go out again. 

She makes it out the door and down the stairs on the street, determined not to let fear or Andrew rule her life. Confidence comes from an absence of people and cars matching his description in the street, she gets to work only a little late that morning. 

* * *

"I have five minutes dance with me." Leo says coming up behind Margaret as she wanders absently through the crowd of well-dressed people. 

"I have to get back to Alyson." Margaret nods allowing Leo to take her in his arms. 

"Your face is healed." Leo observes, his eyes darting briefly to The President on the other side of the room. 

"Make-up's hiding some of the last bruising." Margaret smiles, feeling secure and confident in his presence. 

"Me too." Leo grins as Margaret breaks into a light laugh at the small joke. 

When she looks up again his face is deadly serious. 

"You look beautiful tonight." Leo compliments her, noting her red hair pulled up high on the back of her head, a small blush to rise through Margaret. 

"I think you missed your calling." She jokes. 

"What personal shopping?" Leo smiles pulling her closer as they turn slowly around the floor. 

"Rescuing women in distress." Margaret corrects softly. 

"I've never done that before...I've helped a friend, but she rescued herself." Leo corrects Margaret, who smiles up at him. 

"You're very good at it." She whispers. 

"You're too thin." Leo says quietly, running a hand up her arms and across her prominent collarbone, staring directly into her eyes. 

"You picked this dress purposely because you know my arms and shoulders are my best asset." Margaret says tilting her head and moving in closer to Leo's. 

"Maybe." Leo relents, inching closer as well, his lips hovering inches from hers. 

"Alyson." Margaret suddenly remembers moving out of Leo's space, smiling at him before disappearing into the crowd. 

* * *

"Thank you." Margaret says dropping the money on the front seat through the open window of the cab. With Alyson on her hip her eyes scan up and down the street looking for Andrew, despite the dimness of the street lights she fails to see the dark navy car parked in the vicinity of her apartment. 

As the cab accelerates slowly down the street and Margaret turns to go inside she doesn't realize that the white rental on the next block up is in fact him. 

Sighing as she kicks off her high shoes which propelled her higher than Leo tonight, she notices the number flashing on her new answering machine. Ten new messages, one after one she listens to the person on the other end hang up without saying anything. 

Rattled she disconnects the machine that was Leo's idea, but never stood comfortably with her. Pushing it aside she secures Alyson in her bouncer in her bedroom watching for a few minutes as she reaches out to the mobile that hangs within arms reach of her daughter. 

A civilized knock on the door works her up ever further to the point where she stands a few feet from the door, asking who's on the other side. 

"It's Greg Cooper from number fourteen." the muffled voice calls. It's been too shorter time since Margaret has moved in to get to know her neighbors and she isn't about to go knocking and making introductions after the noise the other night. 

Hesitantly she opens the door, leaving the chain in place, following long legs with her eyes up to his face. 

"You're not allowed to be here I'm calling the police." Margaret trembles staring face to face with Andrew Prior through the gap. 

"Please I just want to talk." He replies levelly. 

"There's a no contact order out against you, which you've already broken several times." Margaret informs him, growing in confidence. 

"How's Alyson?" He asks with genuine concern. 

"She's fine, not that it's any business of yours." Margaret allows an edge of spite to enter her tone. 

"I supported you." He replies and Margaret notices the anger beginning in him. 

"I loved you and you treated me like your personal punching bag, and now you still won't leave me alone." Margaret steps up the spite in her words, inching the door a little further closed. 

A large hand thumps against the door, preventing Margaret from closing it any further. 

"I took you and that bastard daughter of yours in when you were practically on the streets and this is how you repay me." Andrew replies, his voice low and full of hatred. 

"Goodbye Andrew." Margaret says forcefully, pushing the door closed against that hand that was trying to keep it open. She listens as his footsteps echo down the hall and away from her apartment. 

Willing her heart to stop pounding she stands against the door, breathing in and out deeply as a small part of her congratulates herself for being so in control. As she starts to smile about the whole incident a timid knock sounds on the other side of the door making Margaret jump back to her safety distance. 

"Who is it?" She calls and gets no reply, there's no reply for the other three times she calls, only a repeated quiet knock. 

With her heart pounding again she turns the lock making sure the chain is securely in place. 

Before she even has a chance to see who is on the other side, the door is kicked forcefully, springing the chain free of the door and allowing it to swing free into Margaret's apartment. 

Margaret stumbles to the floor, quickly picking herself up again as Andrew steps twice, barefooted into her living room wielding a wooden baseball bat. 

Margaret backs away from him, fumbling for the phone. 

"Don't you dare call the cops, or your old man of a boyfriend." He sneers as Margaret hits the emergency number. 

The baseball bat swings, connecting with her arm, the phone dropping to the floor. Backing further away from him, Andrew steps over the phone, crushing the micro technology into smaller pieces. He lunges again striking her hip, stomach, arms, back and chest, all the time preventing her from reaching the door to escape. When Margaret can move no further with the pain, the bat clatters to the floor and he takes one great hit with his fist to her face, knocking her unconscious to the ground. 

* * *

The world is blurry when Margaret comes to again; she can hear her daughter crying but can't reach for her. Her body screams pain in about six places, her heart the worst as she hears her daughter's cries clearer. 

Around her strange men's voice call her name and talk in a tongue she doesn't identify in her current status. It's the pain that provides relief, sending her into unconsciousness again. 

When she wakes again and the room becomes clearer to her, Leo slowly comes into focus nursing Alyson and feeding her a meal. As the strong antiseptic smell reaches her nose she deduces she's in a hospital. It takes her a couple of minutes to look around and fully orient herself, her pain dulled obviously by some high strength pain killers. 

"Hey." Leo greets her leaning over the bed with Alyson. 

He gets no reply as Margaret starts to cry seeing her daughter is in fact healthy and unharmed. 

"You're in the hospital, paramedics bought you here, they found you on the floor, the phone was crushed after you dialed 911, Alyson was in your room and there was a baseball bat on the floor. They've looked at Alyson, she's perfectly healthy." Leo updates her. 

Still Margaret doesn't answer. 

"We've got him this time." Leo whispers as tear after tear trickles down her face. "They want you to stay in for a couple of days, Abbey's going to look after Alyson while you're in here." 

Afraid and ashamed Margaret can't gather a reply except to let herself cry some more. 

* * *

The cab ride to the White House three days later is silent, so is the trip up to the residence and back to the room she stayed in last time this happened. 

Playing happily on the floor with the First Lady, Margaret scoops her daughter up into her arms and clings to her tightly as salty tears trickle down her face. 

When the First Lady has gone and Leo has put down the few things Margaret took with her to the hospital he tells her Andrew has been charged. 

"Don't." Margaret rasps, her first words to Leo in days. 

"He'll go to court." Leo continues undeterred. 

"Don't." Margaret says again, bringing Alyson closer to her again. 

"He won't get away with it this time." Leo adds. 

"The law..." Margaret pauses to sniffle. "Couldn't protect me last time and it won't be able to in the future." 

"Margaret." Leo begins. 

"I can't do this Leo." She says punctuating each word. "I can't live like this, I can't be always looking over my shoulder and I can't destroy my daughters life because of a bad decision I made." 

"You won't have to. You can't give up, if I had have given up trying to kick my addiction all those years ago, I'd be dead now." 

"I can't do this anymore, I can't pretend to be strong and not afraid. I want Secret Service protection, I want a new name, I want a new town, I want a new job, I want..." Margaret says before Leo cuts her off pressing his lips to hers and kissing her passionately. 

"I love you and I won't let anyone bar anyone drive you to that length." Leo says tenderly, the back of his hand grazing the side of her face. 

"Don't." Margaret repeats. 

"What?" Leo asks, not getting the reaction he's hoped for from his admission. 

"You can't just come in here and do that." 

"I'm not lying to you." Leo confirms softly. 

"Look at me." Margaret cries out. 

"I see Margaret." Leo tells her. 

"Look at me, look at my daughter with a father who doesn't want to know about her, look at my life, lived in fear unable to trust, look at the cuts, lumps and bruises on my body, look at my face... this is what love is to me and I don't want you to be that person." Margaret manages before breaking into tears again. 

She crumbles into Leo, winding her arms around him for support. He tucks his head in, opening her face to his and kissing her again and again. 

* * *

With her arms wrapped around Leo is how Margaret finds herself in the morning when a gentle tap at the door catches her ears. Crawling out of the bed and throwing a robe around her, Margaret opens the door to Abbey Bartlet who seems pleased to see Leo asleep on top of the sheets and blankets. 

"Jed's at work already, care to have breakfast with me?" The First Lady requests. 

Looking down at her dowdy robe and across at the First Lady's expensive forest green equivalent, Margaret considers changing. "You're dressed fine, bring the squirt with you." Abbey Bartlet laughs. 

* * *

* "I wanted to give you something, when everyone else wasn't around." Abbey tells Margaret delivering another spoonful of mashed banana to Alyson. 

Having got her attention, Margaret looks up from her slightly overcooked English breakfast. 

The First Lady reaches into her pocket, pulling out a business card and hands it over the table, on the back is a name and phone number, the front contains the name of a counseling service that specializes in domestic violence. 

"They've very good Margaret." Abbey Bartlet says sincerely. "You can be as forthcoming or as discreet with your personal details as you like. You can talk to someone individually or in a group with others who have gone through the same sort of things as you." 

Margaret smiles across the table at the First Lady and her daughter. "Thank you, I'll use this." She promises tucking the card in the pocket of the robe. 

* * *

When Margaret comes back to her room after breakfast, Leo is just struggling to sit up in bed. 

"Morning." He yawns, the clothes he slept in, wrinkled and creased. "Morning kiddo." He says holding out his hands for Alyson. 

"Hi." Margaret greets him shyly after last night; she turns the card over and over in her hands wondering how she's going to approach it with Leo. 

"Is that the card from Abbey?" Leo asks tickling Alyson. 

"You know about this?" Margaret asks surprised, getting up off the bed and tucking the card in the pocket of the coat she intends to wear today. 

"She's been going to give it to you for ages...but you were doing so well so she didn't." Leo finishes hesitantly. 

"I was going to call..." Margaret stumbles. 

"Take as much time as you need." Leo offers generously. 

* * *

"He's out on bail." Leo informs Margaret the following day. 

"I expected as much." She replies flatly, continuing to sort items for a file. 

"The restraining order still stands." Leo compensates. 

"I'm going home tonight anyway." Margaret says swiveling in her chair to face Leo. 

"Good for you." He smiles and disappears into his office again. 

The familiar beep of her messenger sounds as Margaret finishes putting together the last of the file. Looking around guiltily for using work time for personal email, Margaret clicks to open the web based inbox as the messenger announces another email, and another and another. A half hour later with her account reached it's capacity, Margaret surveys with fright at her inbox full of messages...they could only be from Andrew. 

When her White House email notification sounds, Margaret backs away from the table as she hesitantly opens the message. It's blank, less it wouldn't get past security, however there are enough to create a nuisance and be almost untraceable because of the free email server address. 

Keeping a few for good measure she deletes the rest, relieved when more aren't sent for their place and returns to work. Deep down she knows tonight when she goes home he'll be sitting outside her apartment block, waiting and watching. 

* * *

That night having parked in a prime position outside of her building, Margaret scans each car carefully in her view up and down the street; when she steps up her eyes stray across a red car one block up. The driver looks up right at her and hurriedly starts the car, screeching the tires as it rounds the corner out of sight. 

Each morning and night they play this game as his day in court draws closer, sometimes Leo will arrive home with her with his driver and walk up to her door and then leave via the fire stairs to give the appearance she's not alone. 

There's a whistle by the phone for the nights when he won't stop calling and she put a block on his email address to filter the blank and sometimes threatening emails that arrive in her inbox. 

For the petty penalty he would receive, it's not worth the stress of calling the police, so each instance is recorded and kept where possible. 

"How's the thing going?" Leo asks one night when Margaret asks him in, having accompanied her safely to her door. 

"It's good, it's a life saver really." Margaret smiles going about getting Alyson to bed. It's been a month since she started with the counseling service. 

Leo looks over at her, wanting more information. 

"I have more confidence." She smiles. "More confidence in having control and keeping it." 

"I wanted to...A month or so ago I told you I..." 

"Loved me." Margaret finishes, swinging around to face him. 

"I didn't know if you'd heard me or if I'd dreamt saying those words." Leo replies sheepishly. 

Easing into the sofa next to him and doing up the last of the buttons on Alyson's pajamas, Margaret takes a deep breath and says what she needs to. 

"I can't...do this now." She starts, realizing how inarticulate she is. 

"I know." Leo says understandingly. 

"There are just too many other things and..." 

"I don't want to be a confusion in your life." Leo interrupts, smiling sadly over at her. 

"I'm sorry." Margaret begins somberly. "I don't know if I can trust anyone again." 

"You can trust me." Leo reminds her. 

"I know, I just don't know if I have the capacity anymore." Margaret replies sadly. "I've been hurt too many times." 

"You should put her to bed and I should go." Leo changes the subject abruptly. 

"Goodnight." Margaret almost whispers as she deadbolts the door behind him. 

* * *

Standing nervously outside the dark brick building, Leo occupies himself talking to Alyson as if she were his own councilor. He smiles as Margaret emerges through the double doors, her face lighting up when she sees her daughter. 

"You didn't have to pick her up." Margaret says gratefully lifting her daughter above her head, a brilliant smile spreading across her face. 

"I wanted to." Leo shrugs, moving to open the car door for her. 

They ride in silence till Margaret realizes they're not going back to the White House to get her car. 

"I'll pick you up in the morning." Leo offers and Margaret silently accepts. 

"They told me tonight I'm ready to move on." Margaret says, breaking a drawn out silence. 

"From what?" Leo asks. 

"Andrew." She answers simply. 

"That easy." Leo comments. 

"It usually takes a meeting or a confrontation." Margaret informs him and is met with a hesitant look. "It's alright." She assures. 

"You want me to come up?" Leo asks as the car eases into the curb. 

"We'll be alright." Margaret grins at her daughter. "Thank you for tonight." She directs at Leo and exits the dark car. Looking around the sparse street, the cars parked are unoccupied to her surprise. 

Discovering the lock to her door mangled and opened causes Margaret's stomach to drop to her feet. Clutching Alyson in one arm, her other hand grabbing onto the phone in her bag she inches the door slowly open with her foot. The living and kitchen area are empty and untouched, as she heads to the dark bedrooms; Andrew steps into the doorway of Alyson's bedroom. 

Margaret gasps, stepping backwards, holding tighter to her daughter, a quick glance confirms his hands are empty, but he has the potential to do enough damage with his own hands. 

"I got community service and counseling." He says levelly, stepping towards her, Margaret stepping back. It comes as no surprise he got off so lightly. 

"Andrew what do you want, you can't be here." Margaret says in a pleading tone. 

"A permanent criminal record." He adds, continuing to move towards her as Margaret backs into the kitchen. 

"Andrew if you leave now I won't call the police." Margaret says evenly, backing into the kitchen cupboards. 

"She's getting big, I miss you." He says with almost remorse in his voice as Margaret opens the drawer behind her, fumbling for a kitchen knife. 

The knife trembling in her hand out in front of her, Andrew stops his approach. 

"Margaret." He says in surprise. 

"Please leave." Margaret asks, her voice trembling with her hand. 

"I wanted to say I'm sorry." He says almost with sincerity. 

"Leave or I'm picking up the phone." Margaret asks again, gathering all her courage she got from the domestic violence center. 

He takes a step back but shows no sign of leaving still. 

"I loved you." Margaret starts, her voice wobbling. "That was all I ever did and this is how you treated me in return, threats, intimidation and physical violence." The wobbling fades as she says what she's wanted to say for so long. "This is what you've pushed me to, I have my daughter in one arm and a weapon pointed at you in the other, this is what you've done to me." Her voice grows stronger till she's yelling like she never has before. "Get out of my life and stay out, I don't like the person I am right at this moment, don't make me use this knife in a way I don't want to." 

Reluctantly Andrew takes another step back, his eyes not leaving the knife that is steadily pointed in his direction. 

"Get out, and out of my life before I add break and enter and violation of a restraining order to your criminal record." Margaret yells feeling better than a woman brandishing a knife should. 

Silently he turns and walks out through the open door. 

Dropping the knife to the kitchen floor, Margaret moves swiftly to the door shutting it and pulling the chain across. Putting Alyson on the floor next to her Margaret grabs the phone from her bag that is still secure around her shoulder ringing her landlord. 

She stacks every piece of furniture she can against her front door until the locksmith arrives. 

* * *

"Swing." Three-year-old Alyson calls taking her feet off the ground secure in her parents hands as they walk through The Mall. 

"You weren't surprised he handed over parental rights of Alyson as easily as he did?" Leo McGarry asks his wife. 

"Children only cramped David's style." Seven months pregnant Margaret replies, reaching for her lower back. 

"No more Alyson." Leo says letting go of his new daughters hand and directing his wife to the nearest bench to sit on. 

"Are you Ok?" He asks soothingly, rubbing her lower back. 

"It has got to be a boy, all this kicking and punching and I'm carrying him so low." Margaret groans as Alyson climbs up to sit next to her. 

"Could it have something to do with the fact you're due soon?" Leo jokes continuing to rub her back but Margaret doesn't hear him, her focus is on the arguing couple that is walking towards them. 

Leo eventually follows her gaze, his focus on the firm grip the man has on the woman, her legs are covered in dark bruises and as he jerks her closer into him she flinches, the way Margaret did in the office with Leo that day. 

It's been almost three years but Margaret still recognizes him despite the expanding middle, his hair longer and grayer. Leo recognizes him as well. 

Andrew Prior slaps the face of the woman with him in the middle of The Mall and then pulls her in closer, his harsh words unheard by Leo and Margaret. Leo watches him as he stalks off in the other direction; Margaret's eyes cling to the woman who bursts into tears as soon as he can't hear her. 

Sighing Margaret slides her hands in the pocket of the jacket she can no longer close around her. Her right hand touches a piece of cardboard from long ago. 

Pulling it out of her pocket she turns it over and over in her hands, before standing and walking over to the distressed woman. Leo moves from where he was crouching next to the bench, pulling Alyson up onto his lap and whispering watch this to her. 

Margaret talks to the woman for ten minutes before securing the card in her hand and embracing the total stranger briefly. As Margaret walks back to her family smiling, the woman watches the happy family scene as Alyson runs up to her and wraps two arms around one of Margaret's legs. 

"Very good." She says looking up, barely able to see past Margaret's growing stomach. 

"I guess the leopard doesn't change his spots." Leo starts as Margaret sits next to him again. 

"Yeah but the words getting out." Margaret sighs. "There are better animals in the kingdom." 


End file.
